Chapter XXXIII:

Fade to White

The Memory Bank was as lively as always. Interior lights shined through windows, blemishing a city shrouded in darkness. A distinguished machine dressed in a fanciful black suit stood among a crowd of patrons in the Festhall. A social gathering of clients seeking to preserve precious memories.

Life went on as normal. Id looked on to his establishment, content with the serenity of it all. Another machine approached him from behind. "You're needed at the front."

"Why?"

"The Legion is here."

Id patted his ball-like head with no small amount of confusion. "You mean Amos? Are he and Nine back?"

"No. Amos is not among them."

"You say other Legionnaires are here?"

The employed machine nodded. Id wracked his brain for answers. An idea sparked in a sea of electric thoughts. A potential explanation that filled him with excitement. "The Legion is no more. So, this could only mean that Amos' wayward friends have returned from overseas. Make haste! Lead me to the Old World heroes at once!"

"But," the machine hesitantly warned. Almost fearfully. "They do not seem like friends. They kicked in the front doors. They still stand there now not answering any of our questions or…"

"Amos too was a mute! He was also no stranger to brute force. I need not remind you that any friend of his is a friend of ours. Without him or Nine we would not be here today. Now take me to them!"

The stubby promptly hopped away. Eagerly, Id followed. He was led to the entrance hall where another machine stood by a lone podium. The dual doors were indeed broken down as if kicked in. Standing just in front of the breached entrance was a line of seven figures as ghostly pale as Amos.

Their skin was made of the same salt-like substance however their bodies were very different. They were thinner, lacking the muscle and distinctly android, or rather, human-like shape that Amos had. They stood slightly taller than Amos with sets of four wings on each of their backs.

Stood in a row neatly lined in front of the colorless crowd were much smaller creatures. They were no less pale. Each of them wore a pointy hat like that of a gnome. They carried wands in each hand just as their larger brethren wielded. Wands shaped like the wild branches of a sapling.

None of them made eye contact. The Legions all stood blankly staring into space, unconcerned with the three meager machines before them.

Id's employees stood back, visibly frightened by their appearance and unflinching demeanor. Id let out a digitized scoff at the needless apprehension and welcomed the silent guests with open arms.

"Greetings! I take it you're friends of Amos? So are we! In fact, I owe him and his good buddy Nine quite a lot. I honestly suspected Amos to be the last of his kind but I'm thrilled to see that is not the case. Welcome! You may stay in the Festhall for as long as you need. We here at my humble bank are in full support of your operations!"

The Legionnaire at the center of the line raised his wand, pointing it at the well-dressed machine. It began to glow a bright shade of white. Id quieted down instantly. Unsure as to what was going on. He was not spared the time to think it over.

A blast of white energy erupted from the wand and burnt a hole clean through his iron-clad torso. Id immediately collapsed to the floor. More bolts were fired at the two remaining machines long before they had time to retreat.

They collapsed alongside Id. He turned his head and watched as the monsters proceeded down the hall. The entire building was swiftly subsumed by screaming. He could not move his body. Alien error messages littered his glass eyes. His display glitched and withered away to nothing.

One of the taller Legions stepped over him and came to a stop. It stared down at him with a look of total apathy. Without a glimmer of remorse, the mindless soldier raised a single foot high over Id's head. The machine tried to speak. To ask why this horrible turn of events was happening. To beg for life. However, the pleas for mercy came out as nothing more than inaudible static. Nothing in his body seemed to function properly anymore.

The Legionnaire quietly brought its foot down upon Id's head. A swift, metallic crunch was the last thing he would ever hear.

Then it was all over.

~O~

S404 sat alone in her hut. The swamp was abnormally quiet. Not a single frog belched in the background. It made no difference to her. She was so consumed by her work that she failed to notice the peculiar change in atmosphere.

Chicken bones littered her table. She ran a slender finger through the pile, rearranging them as she saw fit. Scrutinizing eyes studied them with intense intrigue. She searched for patterns among the scattered remains. Cracks or nicks in the bones too caught her attention.

She studied them as though scrying for divine knowledge of the future. She flicked one of the ribs with her finger. It flipped over and landed with a soft thud. A second or two of stillness passed. She lifted her head. Wiry black hair rustled on her shoulders like an occupied rat's nest.

The quiet was finally too obvious to ignore. She focused all her efforts on hearing something. Anything. From a chirping cricket to the splash of a fish in the surrounding water. Seconds turned to minutes yet nothing stirred. Something was terribly wrong. She failed to recall a time when the swamp was this quiet. There was always some disturbance to be heard. Nature always sang to her at all hours of the eternal day.

S404 turned back to the table, having given up on trying to figure out why her world became so mute. The gynoid toyed with her bones for a few more fleeting moments. Finally, something stirred outside. Footsteps.

Like a startled rabbit, her eyes darted back to the door. Her hut was sealed. All was relatively secure. She listened. The footsteps ended right outside her abode. Just beyond her door. She dared not speak a word.

The door was kicked open and very nearly ripped from its hinges in the process. She gasped and reached frantically for her old YoRHa-issued blade. Her fingers graced the rustic sword after so many years of neglect. She took hold and aimed it at the approaching intruder. Her hands quaked with fear. Her sword rattled in her shaky grasp.

A towering figure stepped into her home without invitation. Long arms and legs. Wings on its back. A body covered in salt.

"A-Amos!?"

She knew it was not Amos. It looked nothing like Amos apart from the size and skin textured like salt, yet his name was all her mind could process. The pointy ears and scrawny frame were not at all features Amos bore. The beast looked more akin to the elves depicted in ancient literature.

A wand held in its left hand was pointed at her. The branches lit up with brilliant white light. She panicked. Undoubtedly, he was a friend of Amos'. They were, at the very least, of the same horrifying species. She bared her teeth in bitter resentment. Her entire body shook with terror.

She did her very best to hide the fear. "What!? What do you people want!? I've done nothing wrong! You have no business here so get out! GET OUT! GET OU…"

Her demands were cut tragically short. A ribbon of white light tore through her chest. She fell onto her back. Blood trickled from her nostrils and seeped from her lips. One by one, her vital systems shut down. Her body fell limp.

In a flash of fear and pain, it was all over. The last, echoing memory of her mortal life would forever remain a dreadful one.

~O~

Emil came bursting out of the hospital lobby after hearing the explosions and screams from the morgue. It did not take him long at all to figure out what had happened. He kept to himself and watched as the grieving, still very much confused androids tended to the aftermath.

9S stared into the patch of salt that remained. The empty clothes of an unmarked uniform lay splayed on the concrete. A lonely necklace rested in the pile. He plucked it from the salt and held it up. The nameplates jingled hauntingly, each one bearing the name of a fallen Legionnaire. 9S noticed a sixth tag had been added since he last saw it. A tag left in the very back as if to purposefully signify its lack of importance.

The name "Amos," sparkled against the light of cobalt lightning.

"I-I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to… To…"

He could not finish the sentence. Vicious fingers coiled around his choker and yanked him away from what remained of his pale friend. He turned his head. Devola pulled him closer. It was by no means a loving embrace. She stared at him with a coldness he had yet to see from her. Her teeth gritted with violent intent.

"Didn't mean to," she shouted while physically shaking the scanner. "Didn't mean to!? Do you understand what you've done!? Because of your actions, they're dead! Amos! 153! They're both dead! All because of you!"

9S was frozen partially from genuine fear and partially from heartbreak.

"We told you to give him the goddamn necklace! We told you but you never listened to us!"

He observed the frantic way her emerald orbs glared at him. Switching between his left eye to his right, searching the soul within for answers to compensate for his silence. She tightened her pull on his choker, giving the accessory's name a brand new meaning. A gag escaped his lips. His access to oxygen was cut off. He tried to push Devola off but she did not relent.

"Sshisshter," came a slurred yet familiar voice. "Sshtop! You'll hurt him."

A light, trembling tug at her shoulder caused Devola to pull back. She took another look at 9S, finally noticing the blueness in his cheeks. She relinquished him. Her anger, however, did not subside so quickly.

"Hurt him," Devola scoffed. She listened to the boy's gasping for air. "Right. Like how he 'hurt' Amos. Or… Or you…"

9S turned to see for himself. Popola stood a few feet away. She was turned at an angle. He saw no signs of injury anywhere on her. "What happened," he asked. "Popola, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Pleash…" She noticed the slur in her speech and tried so desperately to correct herself. "Pleash… Pleasssh don't worry."

Something was clearly wrong and she was blatantly lying. That slur in her voice was enough indication that a problem had occurred. 9S felt his stomach sink like a rock. He stood up and approached her. His hand gently rested on her shoulder. He pulled softly. She stiffened her stance but 9S still managed to turn her around.

He caught sight of her face. The horrific scarring and the melding of her lips. "…Wha… What happened!?"

She turned her head. "Don't look! I'm hideoussh."

It was no lie. He could scarcely recognize her with all of those grievous burns and swelling. She looked like a corpse risen from the grave after a long period of decay. He forced the thoughts to the back of his mind. Carefully, he took her in his arms. He examined her left side, ensuring his sleeves did not agitate any of her burns. As he examined what remained of her, he caught another glimpse of the pool of lifeless Maso floating in knee-high rainwater.

"It's all my fault," he whispered into her shoulder.

She shivered with uncharacteristic sorrow. Warm tears dampened his collar in place of endless rain. Helplessness overwhelmed him. There was nothing he could do to make amends. Absolutely nothing.

Devola moved across the road. She stood before the abandoned sword once wielded by Amos, and by Red Eye before him. The onyx blade shined under the sparkle of a spider's web of lightning. The weapon exuded power. Every stain of blood told the story of another life wasted by its edge.

She yanked it from the asphalt and turned back to face her last remaining companions. "Half of our group is dead. I want to bury them but I don't think we can afford to stay here any longer."

"Why's that," 9S weakly asked, still tightly holding onto Popola. Initially seeking to comfort her, he found himself in a very similar need of another's warmth.

Devola stared back at him with a bitter frown. She angled herself and pointed the Prince's Sword to the skyline.

Buildings were set ablaze. White fireballs soared through the sky, arching like artillery shells, they pounded the city ruins. Screams and growls echoed throughout the city. Tornadoes twirled through the streets, ripping up anything in their path.

Suddenly, it all came back to him. He had somehow forgotten it. The Legion's impending invasion. A war to silence the world so that he could spend a peaceful eternity with his two lovers and have the planet all to themselves. As he stared at the reality of the situation, he learned full well how hopelessly optimistic that dream was.

They heard Emil scream. "Take cover!"

A blast erupted at the group's feet, sending all three of them flying. 9S slammed into the ground. His hard landing softened Popola's. Devola was flung further away. Smoke enveloped the road.

Shapes emerged from behind the veil of smolder. Pale, tall, lanky figures. They appeared from around street corners and converged on the hospital. Smaller, gnomish creatures bounced across the ground around the feet of the larger ones. Where they all even came from was anyone's guess. Perhaps they were responding to the death of Amos.

One charged him. It stomped on Popola's back, pinning the two down on the concrete. The salt beast snarled and braced its claws in preparation to flay them both alive. There was no time for either of the twins to reach him. Popola lacked her staff which would have offered a swift and immediate solution to this danger. Devola was too far away to reach them in time.

At the absolute last possible instant, a streak of purple light flew across the sky and blasted through the creature's chest. It vanished into a puff of dust. Bewildered, 9S and Popola both looked back. Emil stood in that same spot by the lobby entrance. His smiling maw was agape. An odd-looking barrel protruded from his throat. The magical weapon smoked like a freshly fired gun.

Likely as surprised as 9S was, the other advancing Legionnaires made Emil their main focus. They sprang to proper action. They shifted from lumbering zombies to a tactical unit in a matter of seconds. The Legions moved swiftly, got low, and took cover behind whatever was available.

With intense, silent coordination, they took turns firing on Emil. Immediately, the Old World weapon was hit by their anti-magic. A gaping hole was knocked into the side of the machine body Emil possessed. The damage brought Emil to his knees but he kept returning fire.

A flash of light briefly subsumed Emil. When it cleared, a second, identical head had spawned on the ground. A duplicate of Emil. A perfect copy. 9S gawked at it in fleeting confusion. His memories of what little he knew about Emil started to surface again. A story of combating aliens and self-replication was jogged from the depths of his abyssal mind.

The clone opened its mouth, exposing magical weaponry. That clone began self-replicating as well. The growing numbers of Emil clones surrounded and stacked atop each other, forming a grinning pillar of magic-wielding spheres. The Legion was forced to stop their advance, and in some areas, withdraw to a safer distance.

The surprise of the attack bought a window of time. A window that did not go unnoticed by Devola. With her head kept low, she moved across the field, sneaking through the crossfire hoping against all odds that she would not be noticed or hit by a stray beam. When she reached her companions, she yanked them both to their feet. They made a break for the nearest alleyway.

More Legions arrived. From the skies as well as from other intertwining roads. They swiftly started to surround this growing threat. For the first time since the assault began, the Legion encountered a real hazard. Naturally, hundreds of them started to swarm it, seeking to put it down swiftly.

Emil gained some ground simply by replicating himself the same way he recalled doing eons ago. Blasting away at the surrounding foes, he tried to consume the entire block as a first milestone to beating back the entire invasion force. Such a goal, he and his multiple heads were soon to realize, was much too optimistic.

They simply kept coming. He could instantly copy himself, creating new heads capable of killing swaths of the Legion. At least, that was exactly what he was supposed to do. The strength and speed of this new Legion made it only possible for each head to put down a handful of them at a time.

In theory, Emil had access to a limitless number of replications so long as his memories did not start to disappear again as they did during the first time in ancient history he did such a thing. Yet the Legion just kept swarming him. From the skies to the streets, to even the rooftops. For every fallen zombie slain, a dozen more would fill the gap and none of them were particularly easy to kill in the first place.

Soon it became that more clones were being killed than Legionnaires. They took up a strategy of dividing and conquering. They focused fire on one section of the pile of clones. They split it off from the main group and wheedle it down to nothing. Then they repeated the process while other Legions in back focused on the main column of Emil's copies to ensure the population did not reach too large a level.

Slowly but surely, the precious ground Emil and his copies had started to gain was lost again. This tragic turn of a bizarre battle was seen at a safe distance by the still fleeing androids. They managed to retreat from the field of immediate danger. They moved to a nearby bridge that gave them an elevated view of the conflict. The twins stepped to his side to see what was going on.

"He's," 9S stuttered. "He's losing."

Devola took his hand and pulled him away from the ledge. "And if we stay here, we'll be killed too. We gotta get outta here while we still can!"

She tugged at the scanner but did not get very far. It was not 9S that refused to move, he seemed quite eager to be led away from this hopeless battle and it mattered not to him if Emil survived. The twins were his only priority.

It was something else. Something else caused him to freeze up. The twins soon took notice. The trio froze in fear at the sight of it.

Emerging from the skyline to the west was a massive creature. A skeletal beast with the wings of a defleshed dragon. Its skull bore horns pointed forward like tusks. The head was shaped like that of a hellish goat. A long, bulky trail of bones made up its tail. It moved directly above the androids, ignoring their insignificant presence in favor of the real danger. Blazing ruby eyes streaked across a jet-black sky.

"Red Eye," whispered Popola.

A furious howl crackled in the air. The blaring noise forced her to shield her ears.

"I," 9S once again hesitated. "I can't believe it. I… completely forgot about her."

"It's a she," asked a mortified Devola. "That's the new Red Eye, ain't it!?"

9S let the skeletal lady in question speak for herself.

The Dragon opened her jaws. A pale fireball exploded from several rows of jagged teeth. It cut straight through the pillar of heads, obliterating a good quarter of the hostile clones. The height of the pile shrunk noticeably as the remaining clones fell into the empty space created by the blast.

Unanimously panicked, the clones focused all their fire on her. The Dragon nonchalantly hummed to herself as she whizzed past the clones and swooped heavenward. The lack of suppression on the streets allowed the surrounding lesser Legions to focus fire on the pile. They killed a swath of clones within a second or two, forcing those that remained to resume firing upon the pale zombies as well, dividing the clones' focus.

The Dragon scraped the storm clouds before coiling her back and diving straight down. Fireballs manifested not from her breath but the air around her. Columns of enchanted flame rained down with her. As she neared her enemy, she inhaled one final time and relinquished that air into a molten inferno. It all came crashing down on Emil and his replicated selves. The entire block was consumed by Legion fire.

It cleared after a few massive, chained explosions. All that remained standing above the wreckage were the Dragon and her immortal army. They crept from behind cover and out of their holes. They all converged on her and surrounded the small stretch of road where a single enemy remained.

Emil remained nestled inside the column toward the bottom until there was nothing left. The heads of his copies kept him shielded from much of the damage but not all of it. That machine body was still attached to him yet it was barely able to move.

Emil panted helplessly. He stared the Dragon down. Her red eyes burned with a hatred he could not quite explain, but one he could most certainly feel. It felt like an aura. He sensed a festering cocktail of grief and anger exuded from every fiber of her undead being.

Momentarily, the Dragon sat back and watched. About five Legionnaires emerged from the surrounding horde. They sprinted straight for Emil but he was too weak to do anything substantial about it. Replicating himself was firmly out of the question. It was all over.

They swiped their claws along his mechanical back. He swung a bulky hand at one of them to simply keep the hostile creature at bay. Another Legion came from behind and grabbed that pesky arm. After a few ruthless tugs, the limb was yanked off. When Emil tried to stand, a wand was fired at his right leg, severing it from the rest of his body.

In the end, he was forced back down into that same spot, humiliated and on the verge of death. A bellowing roar caused those few Legionnaires to cease their violent hazing. They retreated to the safety of the crowd.

Red Eye approached her latest victim. "You startled me," she finally spoke. Hearing the red-eyed beast speak caught Emil off guard. Hearing her raspy voice was all the more terrifying. "I did not anticipate any real resistance."

Emil was not given his turn to speak. There was nothing the Dragon wanted to hear from him. She lifted a reptilian foot and brought it down on the automaton. What followed was an uncomfortable crunch. The Dragon dragged her foot a bit, smearing her once smiling enemy on the pavement, leaving a trail of smashed components and flattened metal.

She then took flight and disappeared into the clouds.

The androids hugged the coastline. They dared not travel too deep into the ruins. Eventually, inevitably, they returned to the wreckage of their old home in the flooded city.

The entire coast was flattened by the last battle. The building they occupied for so much of their journey was long gone. Left in the sea of broken pieces and lost forever to time. Only their memories of what it looked like and where it stood remained.

When they turned a corner and rounded a pile of fallen debris the twins and 9S all came to an abrupt halt. Their sparse conversation died immediately. On this decimated coastline, they were not alone.

A painfully bright light subsumed their vision. An almost… heavenly light.

A voice came to them from afar. A deep, male resonance. "Ah! My friends! Through war and strife, you return to me!"

There was no mistaking that voice. Even less mistaking that light. The unfortunate androids recognized everything. They drew their weapons and waited for their eyes to adjust to the so-called "Light of Lights."

His form came into view. The gargantuan body of a human baby adorned with lavish blond locks and white wings. A bright halo blazed atop the crown of his head, hovering in place via divine magic.

"You," 9S asked in total bewilderment. "The hell are you still doing here?"

Devola smirked. "Last I remember, my sister sent ya runnin' for the hills. Pretty ballsy to come back here of all places. Did ya not learn your listen the first time?"

The remark evoked a hearty chuckle from the infant. "Oh, dear, sweet Devola! Your words wound me." He swiftly took on a far less friendly tone. "And I'd recommend you rethink those harsh words. I leveled this entire block before and I'll gladly do so again if it means putting you right back in your place."

Devola forgot that the very staff used to nearly kill the Cherub was no longer usable. She took a threatening step forward, more than eager to engage in yet another insanely difficult fight. An arm outstretched past her, holding her back. Popola stepped out of the shadows.

Briefly, extremely briefly, the Cherub jumped at the mere sight of Popola. Her presence struck visible fear into him. The dread subsided the moment he realized the staff was not in her hands. The horrid wounds sprawled across her face only reinforced his returning confidence.

"Oh, my. What on this mortal earth happened to you?"

Popola narrowed her remaining eye. She refused to answer. Hearing her newly obtained speech impediment would only give him more cause to taunt her.

"And I fail to see that awful weapon anywhere…" The Cherub adopted a sadistic, toothy grin. He squeaked with childish delight. Without warning, he suddenly dove for her. He stomped his foot against the ground. The force of his mass slamming into the earth sent a shock wave that knocked all four of them off their feet.

"Why, you gutter-writhing whore!" The Cherub shouted. His voice reverberated like crackling thunder. He repeatedly stomped the ground near and around Popola. He sent the helpless android flying. "I'll teach you to embarrass me like that again! Go on, slime! Show me the void! Show me that awful power again and see what becomes of you!"

Devola and 9S had been knocked well out of harm's way. While at a safe distance, they tried to search for a way to drag Popola out of there but his rapid, unpredictable tantrum made it impossible to get at her. Devola ground her teeth in a swell of vindictive fury.

After a few minutes of flinging her about, he finally relented. Popola slammed against yet another chunk of concrete. She curled herself into a defensive ball and waited. The Cherub fluttered back to the coast. He made sure to secure a safe distance from Popola. His meaty hands still trembled from the encounter.

He took but a second to recollect his divine composure. He folded his arms and pursed his lips in a pout. "Never in my eternal life have I been more insulted than on that day. Shame on you! Shame on you all!"

9S and Devola scrambled to retrieve their battered companion. She appeared fine apart from some bruising. At most, she was shaken up. With her safety confirmed, Devola turned her attention to the hovering perpetrator of this violence. She was already upset. Seeing her sister be flung about by a rag doll sent her plunging into a blind fury.

She stood up and yanked her sword from her hip. "I'll do more than insult you! Come closer and I'll run this sword through all three of your eyes!"

The Cherub forced another squeaky giggle. "I'm sure you'd like to, yes. Unfortunately, I cannot indulge you today. The Legion is closing in and I have not the time to spare for another duel."

A column of golden light descended from the clouds and shined upon a pile of rubble beneath the Cherub. A shape emerged from the stirring rubble. It was pulled into the air by the light as though it were caught in a UFO's tractor beam. A figure emerged. The body bore a head of black hair and equally black clothes.

"That's 4S's body," exclaimed 9S. "What are you doing!?"

The Cherub plucked the dead android from the light. The golden glow immediately faded away. He looked down at the corpse lying in his hands. "It's well past time to bring a certain someone back to life. That is what I intend to do."

"Why bring him back!? What's the point!?"

The Cherub shrugged at the boy's questions. "Have you not figured it out by now? I wish to revive Project YoRHa. I can think of no one better to help me with that endeavor than its proper creator."

He briefly fell silent and scanned the bombarded horizon. "But enough talk. The Legion is yet on the move. Their movements are clear to me from on high. I believe Angelus intends to surround the Tower with a pincer attack. I do not intend to be here when that happens. If you wish to know more…"

He trailed off and looked to Devola. "Or if you simply want to settle the score between us then meet me at Id's Memory Bank. They were recently raided, but the Legion patrols have surely cleared out of there by now so that is where I will be."

The divine aberration started to fly away. Devola gave way to a futile chase. "You're not getting away!"

He flew off in spite of Devola's shouts, disappearing behind the clouds. The light of heaven disappeared with him.

~O~

Through a flooding gutter, they crawled. 2B followed Accord and Anemone in a single file line. Water rushed past their boots like the rapids of a thin river.

Footsteps slammed against the concrete above. Each one caused 2B to flinch and peer through the grates overhead. The monsters patrolled the street just above them. The sounds of fighting were distant here. Aside from the rain and rumbling of faraway tornadoes, this one street corner was calm. It was also firmly under their control.

The trio came to a gaping hole in the street. The path ahead was too exposed for comfort. A pile of rubble was left where the ground had been blasted apart. Anemone silently beckoned the others to pause their advance. She searched the shattered ruins for cover.

Corpses of androids and machines alike lay scattered across the layered debris. Beyond them was a line of old supply crates. Many were destroyed but a sparse few were still intact and big enough to hide behind. Outcropping concrete gave her more options. She studied the patrols of the monsters and bolted behind cover.

The other two androids followed her lead. They dashed behind cover, waited, watched, then repeated the process until they were across the road. They turned a corner and suddenly found themselves in familiar territory. After making sure the coast was most certainly clear, Anemone stepped out of hiding and exhaled with relief.

"Finally!"

Accord looked onto the empty streets ahead and absorbed the odd sense of serenity. "It seems they haven't reached these roads yet."

2B suddenly pointed upward. The two androids followed her finger and caught sight of movement far above them. On an upper floor of the building directly ahead of them, a lone man waved them down. He hung out of a window, beckoning them forward with a silent motion of his arm.

Anemone took out a tiny pair of binoculars from one of her vest pouches. She magnified her lenses. "Is that… Is that one of Jackass's goons?"

"She's still alive," asked 2B.

Anemone lowered her binoculars. "Maybe. That's definitely the one guy who used to hang around her at the Desert Outpost. Let's see what he wants. Just be on guard. I don't need to remind you that Jackass is no longer our friend."